


you with the lion's roar

by Tsume_Yuki



Series: the pride of lions [2]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Twilight Series - Stephenie Meyer
Genre: F/M, Female Harry Potter, Master of Death Harry Potter
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-20
Updated: 2016-12-12
Packaged: 2018-09-01 01:59:08
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 11,244
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8602792
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tsume_Yuki/pseuds/Tsume_Yuki
Summary: Faced with eternity and threatened with only a human's lifespan to spend with the one he loves, Jasper Whitlock begins his investigation to understand just why vampire venom does not work upon the lovely Hariel Potter.





	1. Chapter 1

 

 

**28th May 1998**

"It didn't change me."

The 28th of May is an appropriately rainy day in England, thick grey clouds rolling across the sky and chasing away all the promises of an early summer that has been lingering in the air for the past week.

Sitting before the cracklings fireplace, Jasper flexes his bare feet before the flames, the heat scorching at his soles. His face is buried in the crook of Harry's neck, the girl sat upon his lap, legs curled up and cheek pressed to his. The scent of sweat has receded now, Jasper having drawn Harry a hot bath when it became evident she was most certainly still so painfully human. Reverberating with each powerful thump, the strong drumbeat of her heart echoes through Harry's chest into his own. The most potent evidence of his acute failure.

Jasper has never turned another vampire before; Maria was always the one to do the deed. He'd refused to ever damn another to the same life he now led. Did he do something wrong? He cannot have done though. Never before has he heard of a turning failing, not like this. The venom either works or kills the intended would-be vampire.

For the life of him, Jasper cannot recall a tale of someone getting up and walking the venom off, still so clearly human.

The warmth of her skin, the pleasurable aroma of lifeblood; it's all too clear that Harry is as human as she were before exposure to vampire venom. It cannot be a difference with her being magical; the magical world has vampires too, and Harry would not have asked him to turn her in the face of death if she were under the impression it would not work. She seems just as terrified as he does.

Eternity is not something that Jasper has ever taken for granted, or at least he'd thought so, but now...

"It didn't work," Jasper confirms and his insides feel cold.

Curls of red brush against the skin of his cheeks, Harry's flushed body so undeniably warm where it rested against his own. She has always felt fragile within his arms before; now she feels paper thin, brightly coloured tissue in the hands of a toddler, something that can be torn apart oh so easily is he's not careful.

His chest hurts, it feels tight and if he were capable of crying, Jasper is quite sure he'd be doing so. As things stand, the venom within his mouth has dried up, leaving it dry and his tongue heavy. He's making a concise effort to not just freeze up, to not emphases just how very not human he is, just how irreversibly different they are. Something that appears as if it can never be fixed.

Harry's shoulders shake slightly, and there's the smell of salt in the air. It takes Jasper a second, but then he realises the source of the smell.

Crying, Harry's crying.

"Oh, Darlin', Darlin' no."

And he retreats from her neck, instead bringing her face to rest against his collar bone, reeling her even further into his lap than she was before, until his arms can curl protectively around her waist and hold her close. He wishes he were warm, that he were soft and comforting and everything Harry needs. Had the venom worked, had Harry become a vampire, it wouldn't have mattered.

But she is still human, so painfully human, and the touch of a vampire is not a comfortable thing. She still melts though, her soft body moulding to the hard edges of his own, fingers curling tight into the fabric of his shirt and just clinging.

"Living forever scared me," Harry whispers, words heavy and muffles by the muscles of his shoulder.

Where his hands are rubbing slow circles into her back, they stop, panic flaring to life in Jasper's chest. Had he pushed her into it? Did she not want eternity, did she not want to spend it with him? But she still holds tight, she still presses herself into his embrace as if he is the only steady thing present within her life. So why-

"It scared me," she continues and his shirt is growing damp from the tears, "not being able to stay with you scares me more though." Oh. That’s, that's…

He gently cradles the back of Harry's head for a moment before his other hand comes to brush against her cheek, slowly drawing her away from the crook of his shoulder.

"Oh, Darlin', I'll take whatever you can give me. If that's just your years as a human, then I'll treasure it more than anything."

It's true, and though it feels as if all of his insides are crumbling at the thought of such limited time, of only holding Harry's hand to have it ripped away by death in the future… Then being able to intertwine their fingers for some years instead of never having the opportunity; he'll take whatever he can get, whatever Harry is willing to give him. The end scares him, but to never have this scares him more.

Hands cupping her red cheeks, Jasper gently brushes his thumbs along the very edges of her eyes, wiping away the tears. His lips press against Harry's forehead before he meets it with its own, the tips of their noses touching.

"I don't know if I can be happy with just a human lifespan now, if I can be happy leaving you alone" Harry breathes and her breath his so hot against his lips, even as her face scrunches with the despair of her admittance.

And while it is certainly something to hear that, the kind of sentence that could almost set his dead heart beating again, his whole being aches at the very thought. Though it might be a confession brought on by the heat of the moment, it does mean in the very least that Harry has thought of eternity with him. That they could possibly be denied such a thing, it stings.

Then, then an idea makes itself known within his mind, and the smallest, tiniest bit of hope flares to life within him.

"We could see the Volturi," Jasper whispers, all of the facts and figures clicking into place within his mind, "they've been around for millennia, if anyone could help, it'd be them."

Harry pulls back, her eyes ringed red with irritated skin and swollen slightly. But there is hope in that green gaze, lips daring to lift into a wobbly smile.

"Sounds like a plan, Whitlock."

 

 

 

**29th May 1998**

They don't waste any time.

It takes Kreacher a day to acquire an international portkey to Italy, insisting with the Ministry that his mistress needs time and space to recover from the attack on her person, but that she is indeed very well. There's a photo in the paper, front page news that despite the fact Harry was attacked, she is very much okay.

They still question if the company she keeps is good for her, asks why she keeps a vampire around if he cannot stop an attack upon her person.

Jasper swears that another will never manage such a feat, that he will tear them apart before they can ever come close. Before, before there was always the safety net, the idea that he could just turn Harry and save her. While the venom seems to have saved her life, seems to have healed all of her injuries, the pain it put her through is unacceptable. Not when he can nip it in the bud before she suffers.

Even if only friends have access to the front porch of Grimmauld, Jasper is still on high alert when the doorbell goes.

His hands are motionless, still holding onto the shirt he had been in the process of folding. Opposite him and stood before her own suitcase -Harry has admitted she has never been on holiday before, not outside of the country. So they are going to do this right, mix business with pleasure- Harry straightens. Her wand is held in hand, and with a flick of her wrist, the smoky image of two -no three people appear before the tip.

"It's Remus and Tonks," she concludes, happy little smile upon her lips as she abandons packing for the moment.

Quick as possible, Jasper finishes off folding the shirt he has in his hands, zipping his case shut and following after his dear little human.

Harry's hair is pulled up into a loose ponytail, the bunch of curls swinging back and forth as she makes her way down the hall.

Halting at the door, she takes a moment to cast scent specific smells and Jasper tips his head to her in a silent thank you. For Lupin is a Child of the Moon, and though an exceptionally even tempered one, he still smells of foe, as does his infant son.

"Harry! Glad we caught you, didn't know if you'd left yet!"

Nymphadora Lupin-Tonks would no doubt bounce into the hallway had a baby not been cradles within her arms.

Instead, she offers the tiny little boy to Harry, who accepts her godson eagerly.

Edward Lupin blinks, staring up with dark eyes that bleed green when he meets Harry's gaze.

Though he has only been in the company of the child thrice since his birth, and though he smells something foul, Jasper finds himself surprisingly fond of the boy.

Wiggling his fingers before Teddy's face, Jasper smiles when tiny little hands grab onto one of his digits.

"We just wanted to bring over the official paperwork now that it's finally gone through the Ministry," Remus expanded, a tired smile on his face. The both of them look quite tired indeed, but then again they both have a newborn baby. Sleep is now a luxury that is quite hard to come by.

"Paperwork?" Harry asks, gaze not lifting from where it is focused upon the baby in her arms.

"Yes, you're both officially godparents."

Jasper's head snaps up in surprise.

"Both?" He questions, watching as the two Lupins just smile back at him. It is Remus that answers, eyes flicking over to look upon Harry as she gently rocks his infant son.

"In my experience, Potter's fall fast and they fall hard. It was easier to mark you as the godfather than to go back and fix it when the two of you make things official."

Right, that is, that is, something.

It takes Jasper a moment to realise this level of discomfort and surprise would have a human fidgeting, but by that point it's too late to actually do so. So he instead has to put up with Remus just smiling at him as if he understands every last thing running through Jasper's head.

The man's gaze is a bit too knowing for Jasper and the blond remembers that his fellow creature had once believed he would never be happy, never be content with life. He has been where Jasper once was, and despite their ages, it leaves the vampire discomforted, as if he is the young of the two.

"Thank you," Jasper murmurs, turning his attention to Harry and trying to ignore the werewolf who's eyes are far too understanding.

 

 

**30th May 1998**

Magic truly is a wonderful thing.

Jasper stands within broad daylight, head tilting back with the sun kissing at his cheeks. He need not worry about burning, yet sun cream is still smeared beneath his cheeks, half rubbed in and so clearly marking him as a tourist to the Italians all around them.

Beside him, Harry rocks back on her heeled sandals, a large sunhat crammed onto her mane of red hair and lips twisting up in a smile.

Her magic cloaks his vampiric traits from sight, dismissing the sparkles of his skin from ever registering with those who are not magic. Other vampires may see, other magicals may see, but they are already well aware of his kind now.

He can smell the leather of his own sandals, the sophisticated spice of Harry's perfume. Her hand slips into his, fingers threading with his own, thumb warm against his knuckles.

Cocking his head towards the woman, Jasper uses his free hand to imitate a 'come hither' gesture, pulling a smile from Harry's lips. She steps closer and Jasper ducks in to plant a soft kiss against her lips.

"I have no idea where the Volturi are based with Volterra, Darlin'," he admits, only mere inches from her face as he contemplates stealing a second kiss, a deeper one.

Harry hums, the sound trapped in the back of her throat before she regrettably retreats. He's only slightly appeased when she pulls two treats from her bag; a chocolate lolly for herself and for him, a blood-pop.

Accepting the little gift, Jasper removes the wrapper and slips it between his teeth, the rich flavour of what he has come to learn to be jarvey blood seeping across his tongue. Harry's own treat is balanced between her lips as one hand twirls her wand, the other holding out the map of Volterra before them. She mutters something, latinate words that are lost around the handle of her lolly. A stream of energy, pale pink in the heat of the sun, leaves from the holly tip, curling around in the air before they settle upon a specific street upon the page.

"There's the entrance," she whispers, wand tapping against the location in question.

Jasper lets his eyes roam over the map, memorising the general area as well as the swiftest route they can take to reach their destination.

"Right then, Darlin', let's go."

Harry blinks, looking up at him with a smile before she squeezes his hand. He can make out the slight streaks of sun cream that haven't quite been rubbed in fully, her skin unable to accept anymore excess protection on top of what it already houses. There's slight clumps of mascara on her lower lashes, a slight edging of chocolate to her lips now.

She's so painfully human, but it doesn't hurt like he'd expected.

The idea of a future without her terrifies him, but on that same vein, how could he not accept and cherish any and every part of Harry? She might be human right now, but she wears it well, flaunts it. Perhaps another vampire would have a problem seeing such a thing, but Jasper is in far too deep now, with no hope of clawing his way out, even if he wanted to.

"Well, Whitlock? You ready?"

Realising that he has yet to start walking, even though he had been the one attempting to prompt Harry into moving, Jasper offers her his most winning smile, removing the empty popsicle stick from his mouth to press a kiss to Harry's temple.

"I'll follow you anywhere, Darlin'."

And by god does he mean that.

 


	2. Chapter 2

 

 

  
  
**30th May 1998**

The Volturi live within the catacombs.

While that does not necessarily surprise Jasper, the fact a group of humans -a group of muggles- are being led into the depth of the place does.

Beside him Harry goes still, clearly registering just why those people are entering the 'tourist attraction'. His eyes flutter over to her face, which is painfully blank. He has warned her though, warned her of the Volturi's power and influence, warned her that they will not win a fight against vampiric royalty without time and resources. That they will not hesitate to tear Jasper apart at the first hint that he is a threat. Such a thing is unacceptable, because then there will be no one to defend Harry from their attacks.

While Jasper is still displeased at the idea of feeding on humans, the thought of Harry at risk upsets him far, far more.

"Please, Darlin'," Jasper whispers, the unvoiced 'don't start anything' hanging heavy in the air between them.

Swallowing, Harry gives a very stiff nod, teeth digging into the flesh of her lower lip but never threatening to break flesh. That is too much temptation in their current environment.

"Vampire."

The both of them turn to gaze upon a heavily robed figure at the address, whom has not an inch of skin free to be graced by the sun's rays. Curious red eyes take Jasper in, take in the glitter of his flesh and the painfully clear dismissal as none of the humans register the unnatural sight.

"I have an enquiry about vampire venom that I hope the Volturi hold the answer to." Jasper says, very slowly and very well aware that he could have been attacked already, had this Guard not been so even tempered.

The Guard's gaze scans down Harry's form as Jasper speaks, freezing on one very clear scar. Just by Harry's collarbone, upon the left side of her lower neck, the only evidence of Jasper's attempt to turn her prevails. The venom is the only thing capable of leaving scars upon a vampire, it makes painful sense that the scar it leaves upon a human would be so startlingly clear.

The Guard cocks his head to a side, stepping closer as those red eyes never leave the mark of Jasper's failure.

"You still breathe," the Guard whispers, striding forwards until he's not a foot away, "you're still human."

Jasper's hackles rise and he steps forwards, shoulders tense with the strain of someone who presents so much of a threat suddenly so close to Harry. Unacceptable, he doesn't like it one bit.

"We're here to see your masters," Jasper hastens, bodily placing himself between the Guard and Harry.

Harry who's clutching at the wand in her pocket, Harry's who's green eyes are sharp as winter's icy bite. Harry, who's scent twists and all at once smells both familiar and foreign. There's something about it that makes Jasper cringe away, something that strikes primordial fear down his spine like a fork of lightning.

He's not the only one, the Guard feels it too from the way he has retreated. When threaten, vampires do no freeze. To them, motionlessness is a state of being, it is their resting pace. When presented with a surprise, a conundrum, a vampire either advances or retreats.

It says something about the strange aroma Harry suddenly exudes that a member of the Volturi Guard backs down in response.

Harry doesn't even know she's doing it, eyes still focused on the perceived threat. Something is sparking off her shoulders and it takes Jasper a moment to realise it is magic. An after effect of the failed turning?

"You wish to see my masters?" The Guard questions slowly, English impeccable for all that he speaks with an accent.

"Yes please," Harry says, stepping forwards to link her fingers back with Jasper's. Ruby eyes linger on the adjoining digits for a moment before the native vampire takes a step back.

"Follow me."

 

 

He's not nervous, Jasper forcibly tells himself as he's led further and further into the catacombs. It is very professional, the stonework preserved just so, clearly treated and looked after with care. Jasper's sharp hearing can pick up the moment that the feeding begins, the moment that pack of muggles become nothing but corpses, drained dry of their lifeblood. Harry doesn't hear and that is for the best.

Untangling his fingers from hers, Jasper pulls her closer instead, hand slipping into the back pocket of her shorts, the half tucked in shirt -his shirt, she's wearing one of his shirts again- brushing against the skin of his wrist. The front is unbuttoned, only a thin black bralette worn beneath. She looks lovely, certainly not the kind of outfit fit for vampire royalty but Jasper loves it all the same. Harry's aware he likes her in his shirt; it's why he's lost so many of them lately, only for them to reappear gracing her skin shoulders. Jasper would always give her the shirt off of his back, should she ask for it. His manners as a gentleman can only really account for half his reasoning to do so.

"Wait out here," the Guard leading them says, coming to a stop before a grand entranceway.

The scent of blood wafts from beneath the door frame and Jasper is quite content to follow those instructions for a moment.

The Guard turns on heel, ready to walk into the room, but Harry seems quite unable to help herself.

"Wait, may we have your name, please?"

At that the Guard pauses, even turning around to look upon Harry. Slipping the hood of his robe back, the Guard tilts his dark head of hair and smiles at her.

"I am Demetri." What goes unsaid is that Harry does not register as food, clever charm work ensuring so despite retaining her scent, and that this vampire does not have the slightest clue why.

"I'm Hariel Potter, and this is Jasper Whitlock. Nice to meet you, Demetri."

"We'll see," the Volturi Guard answers, but his lips do quirk up in amusement, if only ever so slightly.

Disappearing behind the door, Demetri of the Volturi Guard leaves the two of them stood together, only one startled human secretary to keep them company. Her frost blue eyes switch swiftly between himself and Harry, as if trying and failing to understand what brings them here. Though it also may be because Harry is still so painfully human. What a human is doing here at the heart of Volturi though without having lost their blood, Jasper has no idea. Nor is he really bothered about said human as much as he is with regards to Harry.

Harry who presses herself a bit firmer onto his side, one hand resting against his ribs, the other still curled around her wand. Her palm is hot, even through the fabric of his shirt, fingertips slowly scratching back and forth over the ridges of muscle there.

"We've got portkeys against hostile intentions."

Jasper doesn't need Harry to remind him of such a thing, he's well aware. They had been tested against his own vampiric speed after all, so he knows with complete certainty that they will activate before the Volturi can hurt them. It's the fact the Volturi will not stop hunting them down if they do so that makes Jasper uneasy.

"Th-the Masters will see y-you now," the human stammers, face still twisted in confusion as she looks upon the two of them, even as jealousy roars to life within her chest. Jasper can feel it, bubbling and surging, a sensation that has his pulling Harry just that little bit closer. So the secretary is either in enamoured with the idea of a vampire lover or wishes to become own herself. How positively shallow.

 

 

"And the venom failed?"

Aro of the Volturi leans forwards in his chair, ancient hands gripping at the very edge of the armrests.

Beside him, even the usually disinterested Marcus looks to be considering them, Caius making no show of hiding his curiosity.

Jasper had knelt upon entry to the room, as is only right in the presence of royalty, but Harry had offered nothing more than a quick curtsy. Bowing to another no doubt reminds her far too strongly of her now deceased mortal enemy, so such a lack of action is understandable to Jasper.

Of course, Aro is now well aware of this, having all but demanded Jasper's hand the second they had finished their greetings. Now the Volturi are aware magicals still live, but what makes Jasper most uncomfortable is that Aro now knows Harry as well as Jasper himself.

Those wine red eyes stay completely focused upon her and Jasper can feel the emotions there.

Intrigue, interest, greed.

It doesn't take a genius to figure out just what Aro is thinking; he's very much on board with the idea of Harry becoming a vampire. A vampire of the Volturi, a magical vampire linked to the Guard, she'd be invaluable, and by her inclusion, Jasper would be pulled in too.

He's no fool, he's well aware of his own feelings.

Six months is more than enough time for him to fall in deep; Miss Hariel Potter is all he will ever want in his life now, he will accept no other.

"We shall attempt to turn you," Aro continues, focused on Harry as he leans forwards slightly in his chair, "if you wish to still do so."

It is not phrased as a question and that has Jasper tensing. Harry's hand, once again in his own, offers a gentle squeeze before she lets go, stepping forwards.

"Please do."

 

 

**3rd June 1998**

It doesn't work.

Where Jasper was unsuccessful, the Volturi also meet with failure.

Harry took the venom, and for three days she writhered in pain. No screams left her lips, but that was the extent of self control. Harry has experienced the worst pain known to wizarding-kind, has suffered under the torture curse. Jasper is both proud and sadden that she did not react verbally to the burning agony of the venom.

Just like last time, her heartbeat stopped and then, just like last time, it starts up again.

He had managed to confirm something he hadn't been fully certain of when that heart gave its first beat.

For all that Aro has his poker face, the ancient vampire's surprise and fury sizzled through the air until it was scorching the back of Jasper's throat. He had really wanted Harry the vampire for his Guard.

The Volturi will not kidnap magicals, too fearful of the war that would come should they attempt hunting one another. Jasper can only hope no magical is foolish enough to go looking for them.

"So, you are leaving," Demetri muses, walking beside them, basking in the bright sunlight.

Both he and Jasper are part way through consuming a bag of blood-pops between them, Harry leisurely devouring true Italian ice-cream.

"That we are."

"I do believe you will be the only human to have ever left those chambers alive."

It goes without saying that Aro has no choice but to let them go, not unless he wanted the magicals to come sniffing around for their saviour.

The hand in Jasper's back pocket give a teasing squeeze and he lets his gaze filter over to the owner of the offending fingers.

Harry just grins back, wiggling her eyebrows as she licks at her ice cream. It certainly seems as if the second failed turning hasn't ruined the good mood the Italian sunshine has cultivated.

"Well, Demetri, you've been wonderful company, but I think we're gonna leave now," Harry muses, offering her free hand to the Volturi Guard.

With a smile, Demetri graces her knuckles wit a kiss, pulling up his hood, concealing his skin from the sun once again.

"It has been a treat to walk beneath the sun for a few short moments. I wish you good luck in your quest for a solution, Hariel, Jasper."

The dark haired vampire nods, stepping back and out of Harry's misdirection ward.

And with a swirl of the portkey, they're back in England.

 

 

**14th December 2000**

"Are you sure about this, Darlin'?"

If there is one life event Jasper had never expected to be taking part in, back when he first came to understand just what the burning in the back of his throat meant, it would be this.

The priest stands before the two of them, welcoming the guests as Jasper adjusts the tie that feels far too tight. He never expected to be a part of a wedding ever again when he was transformed into this unholy creature, had never expected himself to be capable of setting foot in church again. His past self would never have predicted -never have hoped- to be stood before a priest as a vampire, about to be married off to a witch.

He wonders what the holy man would make of it were he aware. This is probably several different levels of sin right here, and that's not even taking into consideration the sex before marriage thing.

But what's one more blasphemous action?

"Please," Harry whispers from beside him, and though there is a thin veil of a see through silk over her face, her eyes are still bright enough to track, "like I'm going to let this venom-failure thing ruin my life. I'm in love with you, and immortal or not, I'm happy to be getting a ring on my finger."

Jasper's lived a fair amount of time and he's quite certain by now that Christianity -along with all the other religions- are just wistful thinking.

Still, there's a small part of him that likes to think he'll see his Ma and Pa, should he ever meet his maker. Even if he cannot remember them beyond a slight spring of warmth within his memories, even if they'd just sneer at his unnaturalness before he'd sent to those fiery depths. Jasper has no plans to die though, not while Harry is still among the living.

He can feel the tearful, proud emotions of the Weasley parents, can feel the heart-ache and love from Remus Lupin, but they're all near eclipsed by Harry's own feelings. Happiness pours off her, a rare eagerness that most would take for nerves, and love. There's a whole lot of love, all but glowing from her white clad form, all directed right to him.

They're no longer planets, they've both conquered their suns and evolved into supernova stars, orbiting the centre of the same galaxy. They move in harmony with one another, a glittering pair that work seamlessly.

It's difficult to accept that they will both burn out someday, that maybe Harry's brilliant flame will be suffocated until it burns no more, and that in the wake of her loss he will disappear too, become nothing more than an afterimage. A dancer immobile without his partner, a soldier lost without his cause.

But to live right here, right now, as they are both standing upon this alter and glowing in the winter sun... it's worth the oncoming pain.

"You may now kiss the bride."

 


	3. Chapter 3

 

**12th January 2004**

There are bruises on Harry's hips, forming steadily as the night passes by. Possessive prints of his hands in a darkening purple, stark against the peachy cream of her skin. Perspiration has dried up on her chest, leaving a light glisten in its wake.

The evidence of their coupling still lingers between their thighs; Jasper hasn't bothered to move since Harry fell asleep in his arms.

He can still hear her gasping breaths, her pleas and prays for him to keep going, to not stop. She had been so deliciously warm around him, gripping him tight and threatening every last thread of his self control. How she'd panted and moaned, her fingernails digging into his shoulders, hold strong but without the threat of vampiric strength to tear.

He'd felt safe, he does feel safe with Harry, always will. He feels even better being able to hold her in the protective cage of his arms, body moulded to his.

Their legs tangled together, long limbs woven in with the thick blankets that remain unneeded for Jasper but keep Harry warm as she lays beside him. Sweet little puffs of air leave from her nostrils and Jasper times his breaths to the steady rise and fall of her ribcage. One of her hands rests upon his torso, tanned skin against pale marble and it's a wonderful contrast.

Jasper doesn't sleep, doesn't dream, but lying there with his arms fully of a slumbering Harry is absolute perfection anyway, and that will never change.

 

 

A handful of pictures slap down on the surface of the table, right before Harry's half empty plate, the muffled thump echoing through the kitchen.

"I know witches age slowly, but this is ridiculous. You haven't changed. At all."

Miss Hermione Granger-Weasley folds her arms and while Jasper still hasn't quite forgiven her for leaving Harry alone all those years ago, he has grown to like her. That she spends a fair portion of her time researching Harry's apparent immunity to vampire venom may have something to with it.

Running her words back through his mind, Jasper takes a quick glance at the photographic evidence she has presented them with, inspecting the five year old photograph. Within, Harry and Hermione are sat in a spa, receiving some form of treatment upon their nails as several attendants attempt to tame Hermione's mane. Whereas the brunette's face has grown slimmer, matured with the slightest of laugh lines beginning to show around her eyes -only Jasper's superior gaze can pick up on them at the moment though- Harry's face is...

It's exactly the same.

Golden eyes flicked up to glance at Harry a second time, just to confirm what he's really seeing. But her face doesn't appear to have aged a day, doesn't appear to have changed in the slightest since Jasper met her. It's something he's used to, those in his acquaintance never changing, frozen in a single snapshot of life as the rest of the world continues to grow around them.

Of course he wouldn't notice; every day with Harry is a blessing, but he does not count them, does not wish to end up with a final number of just how many days he has had with the lovely witch that he now calls his wife. Only... only she's unchanged. She doesn't appear to have aged.

Jasper doesn't dare to get his hopes up, not after half a decade of setbacks and inconclusive results. Because Harry's still breathing, she doesn't lust for blood and her body still processes the regular human functions. But she's not changed in the slightest for five years. That, that has to mean something, right?

"I haven't?" Harry repeats dubiously, head cocking to a side as she examines Hermione, as if looking to see if she can find any kind of falsehood in her face. But no, there's nothing there but the honest truth, Jasper can sense it in her emotions. Hermione would never toy with them over this, she wouldn't. But then, what could it possibly mean?

"I stole a bit of your hair for an ageing spell," Hermione admits, digging around in the satchel she has slung over one shoulder, "and this was the result." She hands the paper over to them ever so carefully, chewing on her lip and nervously looking away.

Jasper's eyes are all for the parchment though, for the facts and ignited written upon it. The paper insists that Hariel, as of three days ago, isn't even eighteen years old. The spell places her age as seventeen, the same age she was upon Voldemort's defeat. Right down to the day, actually.

Jasper reads the words through again, still struggling to process all that's before him. What happens that day, for this to be the result? It cannot be about Harry surviving the killing curse, otherwise the spell would surely have taken her age from when she was first hit with it, back when she was nought but an infant. It doesn't make sense.

"I've tried looking into the after effects of the killing curse, but I really don't think we're on the right lines with that," Hermione admits, taking a seat up to the kitchen table and accepting the cup of tea that floats into her hand, "and given the date it's obviously not the vampire venom because this is half a year before you were even exposed to that."

There's quiet once again and Jasper finally realises Harry has said nothing on the subject. His eyes flicked to her, but she's just motionless, gripping the parchment with shaking fingers. There's terror, an incredible amount of shock, with just the slightest glimmer of hope, though she clearly fears that little emotion.

"I... I was looking into the book Professor Dumbledore left me... and it revolved around the legend of the Deathly Hallows... I didn't think much of it at first, but there's said to be truth hidden in tales..." Hermione trails off, obviously not quite sure how to react when Harry is being so quiet.

Taking the initiative, Jasper reaches across to take the brunette's free hand, the most grateful, most genuine smile he's worn for some time upon his lips.

"Thank you, Hermione. We'll start looking into it."

"I just want Harry to be happy."

And maybe Jasper can never forget this woman abandoning his wife in a time of need, but perhaps he can forgive.

 

 

 

 

**26th January 2004**

Their research is a frenzied thing.

Kreacher answers their every command, going above and beyond to retrieve whatever they ask of him. They have seven different versions of the 'Three Brothers' tale, and that's just the English. There's a copy in Old English, one in Latin and another in Gaelic, which neither of them can read and had to bug Hermione about. From there, their search had taken them back to the past, so to speak, looking into Grindelwald's rise, his use of the Hallows' symbol, the tentatively terrifying conclusion that the Dark Lord had once wielded the Elder Wand.

Throughout it all, Harry grows more determined, though there's a lingering hesitance when she looks upon the ring she wear on her finger. She's been running one fingertip over it recently and Jasper recalls the very same symbol they research is carved atop it. Perhaps that ring once belonged to another who believed in this tale, Jasper considers.

Regardless, all their current leads point right to Albus Dumbledore. Dumbledore who is unfortunately dead.

 

 

This is how Jasper finds himself stood within Hogwarts for the first time in half a decade. Harry has been back already, completing her seventh year of schooling as part-time study, even popping into give lectures on Defence Against the Dark Arts.

As they had walked the corridors today the children had stared at her as they passed, stared at him. There was sweeping intrigue, bubbles of lust and jealously, all kinds of teenage hormones. The little spike of wistfulness as Jasper had tucked Harry beneath his arm was sweet though.

Now, now the find themselves before Dumbledore's portrait, the canvas of coloured oils that holds the answer to all their questions. Jasper learns how the ownership of the Elder Wand is passed down, how Draco Malfoy had won this wand from Dumbledore, back before Jasper had ever been a part of Harry's life. He recalls Malfoy being one of the people Harry stunned when they invaded Hogwarts, and the maths is simple.

From there, it's one plus one plus one; the wand, the stone -the stone that rests upon his wife's finger- and the cloak. The cloak that has been passed throughout Harry's family for generations, the cloak that explains exactly why there was a gravestone with that symbol so near the final resting place of Harry's parents.

"Please Harry, my dear girl, could you not reconsider Severus' posit-"

"No," Harry snaps, cutting the painting off with a scowl, her arms folded beneath her bust as she looks away. "I won't vouch for him. He didn't do it to be good, he did it for my mum. If it'd been Neville and his parents instead, then Snape'd left them. He wouldn't have helped. He did everything in my mum's name, he's not a selfless person and I won't let him think I forgive him for making my life hell, just because of who my dad was."

Harry speaks with complete conviction and Jasper agrees with her. He's heard many things of Severus Snape, and even if he didn't let Harry's opinions of the man taint his viewpoint, Jasper still wouldn't have liked him.

"Harr-"

"No, Headmaster. Do you have anything else to tell me?"

There's a moment of stillness then before finally the aged looking figure sighs within his frame and shakes his head.

"Just that I wish the both of you happiness together."

 

 

 

 

**2nd March 2004**

Edward 'Teddy' Lupin meets Jasper's gaze fearlessly, molten gold v burning bronze. They stare and stare, before finally, the five year old breaks out into a grin.

"Uncle Jasper!"

And then he's in Jasper's arms, his own wrapped tight around Jasper's shoulders.

"Hey kid, it's been a while."

Both he and Harry have spent the past month or so travelling, speaking with different magical species, trying to find out if they have any information at all on just what Harry is. The goblins had been useless, the hags refusing to speak but shying away from Harry more than they did Jasper. It brought back the memory of their meeting with Demetri, whom they still send letters to even now.

Of course they hadn't shared their new lead, not wanting to breath a word of Harry's potential immortality, or at least her inability to age. He does not want word getting back to Aro, who will no doubt attempt to acquire Jasper in order to gain Harry too.

"Too long," Teddy insists, fingers gripping at Jasper's curly blond hair when he lets the child settle on his shoulders, a gentle hold of his thin ankles to keep him steady. As the tallest adult Teddy knows -barring Hagrid who's shoulder's are far too board for this- Jasper always ends up with his godson riding on his shoulders, looking down upon the world he usually has to tilt his head back to see.

"Yeah, too long, Noodle."

"I'm not a noodle!"

"Oh really? Because I don't see any muscle on these limbs," Jasper taunts, wiggling Teddy's legs as he does so. The blue haired boy laughs, reaching out to touch the silver hanging lights that descend from the ceiling, the metalwork of intertwining leaves particularly enchanting.

"I'll be real strong soon! Just you wait!"

Ducking into the kitchen, Jasper approaches the table that the rest of the adults are sat up to, nodding to Remus as he takes a seat and removes Teddy from his shoulders. Right away the boy's hair bleeds red as he crawls into Harry's lap, his dear wife bundling Teddy up into her arms right away.

From there, Jasper turns his attention to Remus and Tonks, sharp ears already picking up on what they've probably come here to tell them. It's hidden reasonably well behind Tonks', but Jasper can hear the tiny little heartbeat loud and clear right now.

"Congratulations," he breathes, Harry perking up beside him.

"You're having another baby?" She gasps, eyes warm and a little smile on her pale lips.

A surge of excitement, of wistful longing batters against Jasper's mentality and it takes a moment to realize the second emotion belongs not only to Harry, but to himself as well.

Looking at Teddy sat in Harry's lap, with her red curls and bronze eyes that could almost match his own, a yearning desire thrums to life in Jasper's chest.

Were he not a vampire, would he and Harry have had children already? If they were a normal couple, not faced with biological issues as they are, would they have a little family of their own right now?

He's never really considered it before, but looking at this woman right now, with the notions of newborns -the infant kind, not the vampire type- and pregnancies and babies rolling around in his head, Jasper realizes there's something else he wants from life.

Realises that- well, not that there's something missing from his life, but that there's something he could want in addition to what he's already got. Perhaps it's greedy, but the desire is there.

He doesn't dare to think on it any longer, instead sitting back in his chair and listening to Harry and Tonks discuss potential baby names and gender, even if it's too early for that to be confirmed yet.

 

 

As they're lying side by side in bed later that night, Harry resting her head on his arm and her hot palm against his chest, the topic resurfaces.

"Do you want kids, Whitlock?"

"You're a Whitlock too, Darlin'," Jasper whispers, a little smile at the corner of his mouth, even though he doesn’t feel like smiling at all. His insides feel cold, acknowledging there's an expectation here, one that he won't be able to meet.

"I know, which is why I'm asking if you want any little Whitlocks running around."

Harry won't give up though, looking up at his with eyes glimmering Amazon green in the night. Toying with the red stands held within his finger tips, Jasper draws they back and forth slowly, wondering if it is worth admitting.

But, he had sworn to honour and cherish Harry, has done so very day since their wedding. He will not lie to her.

"I didn't consider it until today. I would have loved to have children with you."

"Then let's do it." And her expression is so bright, so eager and pleased. So painfully human, which he no longer is.

He cannot provide her with this, he's a vampire and vampires do not have children, they're not capable. As he tries to explain this though, Harry cuts him off, waving her hand as she does so. As she speaks though, anticipation flares through his body and Jasper realizes this year appears to be full of all sorts of hope.

"Whitlock, there's nothing wrong with male vampires; it's the females that're frozen in time, they're the ones that can't have kids. A half vampire would kill the mother if she were muggle. But a witch; there's been a few that've had half vampire children. The mother's magic, and then the kid's suppresses the vampire side until they come of magical age. It's not common, but it's happened before."

His brain is whirling, emotions blooming and intertwining with Harry's. Her insistence on taking contraceptive potions suddenly makes sense now, and Jasper realises just how much he's assumed of his own species. How much more does he not know, how much more does he falsely assume? Most importantly though-

"We can have children," Jasper whispers. It's there in his head, little redheads with his human eyes, whatever colour that'd once been. There's no way their children won't have curls, not when both he and Harry's hair exhibit that trait. Little curled haired cherubs.

"You want to have children?" Harry asks and it's obvious she's very much on board with this, that she just wants to confirm it with him.

Perhaps they should be thinking more about this. Perhaps they should be planning more, perhaps they should be doing other things.

But right then and there, when they've come to realize Harry's not aging, when there's the tentative idea that Harry has become something more than human -something more than a vampire, given her reaction to the venom- it just seems right.

"I want a child with you, Darlin'."

 


	4. Chapter 4

 

**11th June 2006**

Bella's blood - blood that smells so sweet to Edward, blood that tempts his family whenever she gets so much as a paper cut- goes cold at the conclusion she forms. The conclusion that all the Cullens have formed.

It's a miracle they've managed to figure out just what is going on, it's only thanks to Demetri that they've managed. Demetri who's Alice's mate. The shortest vampire has been having vision of her mate for years, has known a human would lead her to him.

Bella just wishes it hadn't been Edward's near death that brought them together, wishes it'd have been something less panic inducing.

She's still wary of Demetri, still incredibly cautious. He might have agreed to come and live with the Cullens, only working for the Volturi when they have no other option but to call upon his expertises, but that doesn't mean Bella remains ignorant of his past. This vampire is now the oldest among the Cullen clan, yet the one with the shortest amount of time on animal blood.

His eyes are still red, not the startling ruby that all of the Volturi had showcased, instead they burn a duller crimson that's still nowhere near turning to the near hypnotic gold that the rest of the Cullens showcase.

In the past few months, Bella has been exposed to the truly terrifying side of vampires, so perhaps she should be reconsidering her intentions to turn into one of them.

But she can't.

This is what she wants from life. Now if only she could make Edward see this, everything would be so much easier.

If she were a vampire too, she could help out with this threat instead of having to rely on the Cullens and the Wolves for protection. It stings, bites that she can't seem to do anything, to the point that Bella wants to do nothing more than scream.

As it is, all she can do right now is sit back and listen to the rest of the Cullens trying to talk Demetri into working with the Pack.

Her thoughts fly to Jake and she wonders how he feels about this. Why has he not got tired of all the trouble she brings? Attracting danger all the time, it's something she can't quite turn off.

Though seeing as this magnetism is what appears to have brought Edward to her, Bella can't exactly say she'd have ever wanted it gone.

"We're stronger if we work together," Carlisle states calmly, though Bella can tell the foreign vampire is still trying to process the need to protect the rest of the town at all.

He can understand wanting to save Bella, if only for her connection to Edward and the friendship she shares with Alice. Demetri's relationship with Alice is still new, still just a fledgling, but Bella can tell the former Volturi member is trying, is quite enamoured with the little pixie woman. Demetri's been alive for a long time, so it really shouldn't shock Bella that he's lost a lot of perspective on the value of human life, especially since he's literally been surviving off their life blood until recently.

"I will try."

The unspoken 'for Alice' isn't acknowledged, but they all know it's there.

 

 

 

**12th June 2006**

Sitting on the sidelines, watching as Carlisle goes about explaining the dangers of a newborn vampire to the wolves, Bella pulls her legs tighter up to her chest, resting her chin between the knees now close enough to kiss. She can't learn to fight, her weak human body would be no help here.

Why did Edward not accept Aro's words? She cannot imagine not having the option to become a vampire, to have been bitten and remain stubbornly human. To know that there would come a time when she had to leave the love of her life.

Bella cannot picture ever having Edward leave, not again.

For that poor vampire who loves that human, to know they would eventually part; it must be torturous. So why is Edward still so stubborn about her remaining human?

Gritting her teeth, Bella coils a strand of brown hair back behind her ear, watching as Carlisle showcases the weakest points of a vampire using Emmett as his example. The buff male grins in a good-natured fashion and it's so difficult to reconcile this man as the one that attacked her at her birthday party. It seems like a lifetime ago really, so much seems to have happened since then.

"Everything okay, Bella?"

Cocking her head around to look at Alice, the human offers up her best smile, trying not to frown over her thoughts. It's a good thing Edward can't get into her head, otherwise he'd spend far more time upset with her than he already does.

"Just wish there was something I could do to help," she mutters instead, teeth toying with her bottom lip as Alice hums in understanding.

"If I was a vampire-"

"Then we'd be busy making sure your instincts don't end up with someone dead in town. It'd be even more trouble with you actively working against us."

But it wouldn’t' be a problem if she'd been turned earlier, Bella thinks.

Alice doesn't notice though, her eyes on Demetri as he showcases the most effective restraining hold on their 'newborn'. Even Bella, who's witnessed so little violence before in her life can tell how easily the recently turned vegetarian could decapitate Emmett like that.

"Don't worry though, we'll al- Incoming!"

Edward's already on his feet, a protective buffer between Bella and whatever is approaching from the east. Alice must have had a vision of something, she realizes, something imminent.

Are the newborns making their move?

Surely Alice would have noticed sooner if so, she's been looking for them with her gift specifically. So what-

A form appears at the edge of the clearing, so still and perfect that he's clearly a vampire.

The wolves snarl, one of them -Paul? Embry?- making to lunge.

But then Demetri is there, right before them but there's no hostility in his gaze.

"Jasper Whitlock."

Oh, he knows this vampire.

Bella looks closer and the tension eases within her, for the male's eyes are a burning gold, rich and warm. His hair falls in loose curls of honeyed blond, windswept and framing a handsome face.

"Demetri. I never expected to see you outside of the Volturi. Sorry I didn't send a letter in advance, but I thought this request was better made in person."

He speaks with a distinctive Southern twang and Bella is reminded once again of how unfairly attractive vampires can be, not just physically either. She hasn't grown use to it, instead each one she meets stuns her over and over again.

"Jasper and his wife are the recipient of the letters I write." Demetri's friend then?

Beside her Alice perks up in obvious interest. Bella's well aware the little vampire has only ever asked after the one that Demetri writes to once; by the foreign vampire's refusal to answer it's clear he considers his correspondent a good friend in need of protection. Though what a vampire like this needs protection for, Bella cannot begin to comprehend.

"Have I caught you at a bad time? I can come back later if you'd like."

"This land is protected by werewolves, this pack here," Edward says, and it's clear he's only translating for Sam, "you are not welcome here."

"You mean Shape-shifters. Real Children of the Moon cannot control their transformation like this."

There's a pregnant pause as everyone looks at Jasper Whitlock, who watches the wolves with curious golden eyes.

"Jasper, we have a problem here," Demetri murmurs, valiantly pushing forwards despite the fact this strange vampire's words have just thrown the pack into a tailspin.

Bella's a bit confused herself. Does that mean the werewolves aren't really werewolves? That there's actual creatures out there that exhibit the same traits as the stereotypical werewolf?

"There's a newborn army-"

At this, the intruder into their clearing visibly recoils, a grimace of disgust upon his face.

"Outside of Mexico?"

"You fought in the Southern Vampire Wars," Edward breathes beside her and instantly captures Bella's attention. There were vampire wars?

The wolves seem just as surprised to hear it, though Demetri and Carlisle's solemn faces are indicator enough that they exist.

"Could you give us some advice on how to deal with newborns. I don't know much of your history with them, but for you to have survived so long in that environment-"

"Is that where those scars come from?"

It's a soft enquiry from Alice, but it still has Jasper Whitlock's jaw clenching.

"You can't see it," Edward whispers ever so softly beside her, "but he's covered in scars, all on top of each other. He's been in more fights than I can comprehend."

Edward is nervous.

Bella has never know her boyfriend to react like this, not even when they were facing James and Victoria. Edward can read minds, but in the face of someone with real battle experience, who's been in wars and has enough scars that even Emmett looks cautious…

Bella worries her lip back and forth as the vampire meets her eyes.

"Don't worry, Ma'am. I'm very much against hurting humans."

"Of course. How is Hariel?"

Demetri's abrupt shift in topic makes absolutely no sense and Bella furrows her brows, trying to figure out the connection. It is only Edward's harsh breath beside her, an action of surprise that he cannot contain, that lets Bella know there's even a connection to be made.

"She's well, thank you. We've managed a year and a half without anything significantly life threatening so far."

She'd thought his eyes warm before but now, as Bella watches Jasper Whitlock speak of this 'Hariel', his every action beforehand seems cold. It's obvious he's in love and that has Bella's heart swelling at the very sight.

How lovely. But what could possibly be life threatening to a vampire?

 

 

The Quileute Wolves aren't happy about it, but Carlisle invites Jasper Whitlock to stay with them for the duration of his stay.

Bella knows of Demetri's talent when it comes to finding others and it appears Demetri's friend is aware too; it's the very reason he sought the vampire out after all. In exchange for a place to stay, Jasper has agreed to share his expertise on newborns and effectively fighting them.

Now that he's closer -as close as Edward will allow him anyhow- and now that it's been pointed out to her, Bella can indeed see the network of scars that lace across his skin. It's only when the light of the car's headlights hit them just right, but they're there, and they're numerous.

"I'm afraid I'm not travelling alone, does this offer of hospitality extend to my company, sir?" Jasper cocks his head towards Carlisle and Bella can hear the undercurrent. That Jasper will not remain unless his company are also welcome.

"Are they dangerous?"

"Only to herself," Demetri huffs beneath his breath, a small smirk in his face when Jasper frowns in response.

"Unfortunately accurate."

"Then yes, of course your companion are welcome, Jasper."

 

 

Jasper Whitlock leaves them to fetch his company an Esme prepares the guest room with obvious enthusiasm.

Bella watches the group of vampires ready themselves for guests and finds she's not quite sure how to feel about this. Demetri clearly considers these two to be friends, for he sits in the corner whispering to Alice, a comforting sensation of contentment lazily drifting from him.

Rosalie on the other hand appears very much against the new arrivals, even if they are not permanent guests. She's only just taken to Demetri and even that's only because he's Alice's mate.

This feels like a bomb about to go off, and Bella has no idea who's going to be caught in the explosion.

"Heartbeats?" Alice suddenly questions, which has every single vampire in the room freezing, seemingly cocking their heads to a side as one in order to better listen.

Bella doesn't even try, well aware her inferior human hearing will fail her as always when compared against her company.

"Ah, Jasper. We were, unaware of your company's status."

"You mean that I'm not a vampire?"

Bella's never heard that accent outside of a movie, but she's informed enough to recognise an English accent. Carlisle walks into the hallway, Jasper Whitlock following after him.

Unlike before he's the epitome of tension. His shoulders are stiff even as his limbs are loose. It reminds Bella of a territorial lion, ready to fight off anything that threatens his way of life. The figure behind him explains exactly why he's so high strung.

Significantly smaller than the blond vampire, a red haired woman follows after him. She's pretty, but it's in a human way, there's a flush of colour to her cheeks that no vampire would manage; suddenly Bella knows exactly who these two are.

It's the couple Aro spoke of, the woman who's body rejected the vampire venom, who couldn't be turned.

Her stomach flips uncomfortably.

"Tell me that is not an immortal child." Rosalie' horrified snarl breaks Bella from her observations and her eyes lock onto the small infant that red head carries.

He's beautiful, more so than his mother but not quite the same inhuman level of loveliness that Jasper Whitlock possesses. And it's obvious they're the parents; the boy's hair falls in the same honey curls and his eyes gleam the same brilliant green as his mother.

"He's not and the Volturi are well aware of his existence, Ma'am," snaps Jasper, bodily placing himself between his child -and his wife?- and the rest of them.

Stepping forwards to address the trio, Demetri smiles and certifies her assumption of just who these two are, "Hariel Potter, you are as human as when the venom last failed to claim you."

The red haired woman, Hariel Potter, smiles warmly, making her way around Jasper and handing off the boy to him as she goes.

"Demetri. Nice to see you outside the lair."

She offers her hand and the former Volturi takes it, laying a gentle kiss upon the back of her palm.

"And you're company?" Demetri asks, crimson eyes sliding over to look at the young boy who stares back with curious vivid green.

"I'm James!" The boy slurs, chubby little cheeks lifting into a wide beaming smile and Bella feels her heart melt.

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

He doesn't feel comfortable in the slightest, sitting down and going through the motions of greeting others. He doesn't feel comfortable unable to defend his little family within a split second; it'd take him that long to remove Harry and James from his lap. But he's wearing a portkey, all three of them are, and they'd be gone the second truly hostile intentions flared.

That doesn't mean Jasper isn't tense though.

Resting between his legs with her own stretched out across the plush sofa, Harry wiggles her fingers before James' eyes, love and devotion smeared across her face as he babbles back in response.

It's been a seventeen months, seventeen months and twenty two days, but little James Sirius is still their little miracle. Jasper doesn't regret it for a second. He's not like he imagined, he's so much better.

Think head of curly blond hair that glimmers a faint strawberry in the sunlight, the same green eyes that his wife looks to him with, gorgeous peachy skin and a cute button nose.

He's the most beautiful thing Jasper has ever seen.

"And he grows like a human baby?" Alice Cullen, Demetri's mate, enquiries, big golden eyes wide as she stares down at his son.

"He is human, my genetics account for that," Harry explains, hiding her face behind her hands in a simple game of peek-a-boo that has James in hysterics, "Jasper's side won't come out until his seventeenth. I'm not exactly a regular human, after all."

"I never knew witches existed, until Demetri told me," Alice whispers, all but squealing when James turns his gaze to her and gives a big, gummy grin.

Jasper's fingers have been in the kid's mouth more times than he cares to count; the vampiric cool skin and inability to actually suffer injury from an infant's bite makes him the ideal teething toy apparently.

He knows the other Cullens are wary of him, he knows how he appears. Covered in scars, screaming danger, and rightfully defensive of his little family. He's sensed the female blonde's longing and his heart goes out to her, it truly does. But after their dealing with the Volturi last week, he's not in much of a rush to allow so many others close to his son.

On the plus side, they now know that Harry's tentatively labelled 'Master of Death side' terrifies them as much as it did Demetri and he.

"I didn't realise how many vampires were out there," Harry retorts, snuggling James close to her chest when their son makes the wordless demand with his grasping fingers.

Still quite unable to believe he has this right here, Jasper curls his arms around Harry, pressing his face to her hair and inhaling the warm scent carried within. His wife, the love of his immortal life, the mother of his miracle child.

His gaze finds the other human present, involuntary an action as it is, and Jasper feels his still heart clench. He knows what it's like, loving someone so breakable, someone you can lose so easily. While Harry doesn't appear to be in danger of dying anytime soon, it is not invincibility that she has been granted. Instead her body heals, resurrects itself.

They found that out after she'd been hit by a muggle's car.

That was the first time Jasper almost killed a man in five years, and it wasn't even for his blood.

"I want to help them," Jasper whispers to Harry, fingers stroking up the length of her arm as she lays James against her chest.

Harry hums, her hand dipping into the extended pocket of her jeans, where her wand rests. Soon enough they're enclosed within a bubble of silence, the noise around them muffled and their own words mute to those not involved.

"I won't ask you not to," Harry muses, "it's what you do, protect people. I wouldn't have met you if weren't like that. But please, please be safe. And let me set up some magical protections."

She does worry, his gorgeous little wife.

"Of course, Darlin'.

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

Perhaps she's in a state of shock, Bella thinks.

When Jasper and Hariel, the two Whitlocks, had approached with the offer of help against the oncoming attacks, Bella had known exactly what the rest of the Cullens were thinking. She'd been thinking it too, after all.

Because out of Jasper and Hariel, it is quite clear exactly who would be the most help in a fight.

Only, only that's not true at all.

The traps Hariel had set up had crashed half the newborns before they'd even arrived, startling both vampire and werewolf -shapeshifter?- with the sheer efficiency.

Watching Jasper move between the vampires, tearing into them as they attempted to approach Hariel, it'd been poetry in motion, it really had. He'd been so fiercely protective, blocking blows and tearing off heads, all the while his delicate little wife glowed with a power that put the fear of god in Bella.

Not just in Bella either, everyone had been eying her in poorly hidden terror. She'd been powerful though, strong and fearless and very capable of protecting her loved ones. Everything Bella wished she could be, everything she aspires to be.

 

Now as they gather in the aftermath of battle, the only newborn that remains having been long since paralysed by Hariel's magic, Bella watches the only other vampire/human couple in existence.

They've fought together more than once, it's obvious in the tried and tested method through which they check each other over. Jasper's fingers brush across her pulse points, kiss at the edge of a sharp jawline as he takes a gentle hold of her skull.

Hariel's own fingers trace along his collarbones, perhaps she can see the scars that decorate his skin so close.

There's so much love there Bella doesn't need a magical power to sense it.

It's watching these two when she realise that, no matter what happens in her future with Edward, no matter if she stays human or if she's turned into a vampire, that love can account for and embrace any obstacle.

She only needs look at these two to accept that as the truth. 

 

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To sequel with snapshots of the Whitlock family, or not to sequel?

**Author's Note:**

> Decided I'm gonna upload this is 4 sections.


End file.
